I was seated on the "bench" beside the Judge. At this juncture a police officer stepped in front of the desk with his prisoner, and the Justice turned to him.
"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole tr—'n—g b tr'th—selp y' God. Kissthebook."
The policeman had lifted the greasy volume, and with more regard for his health than for the form of oath, had carried it in the neighborhood of his left cheek and as quickly replaced it on the desk.
"What is the charge?" inquired the Justice.
"Open on Sunday," replied the officer succinctly.
"See him selling anything?"
"No. I asked for a drink an' he told me he was only lighting up for the night and wasn't sellin' nothing."
"Anybody inside?"
"Only him an' me."
"You understand that you are entitled to counsel at every stage of this proceeding," said the Justice to the accused man. "What have you to say for yourself?"